Summer Loving
by barbarapelton
Summary: He had a strong handsome face with his hair kept short and wavy and brushed aside; he was a gentleman; still, it difficult to see how he was to woo any woman successfully when she thought his brother Sirius was the more exciting of the two...SB/OC/RB
1. Chapter 1: Regulas Black

Summer Loving

Chapter One:

There had always been moments in Vesper Ada McDonald's life when others around her had been absolutely certain that she had been born with some mental handicap that had kept her from making great decisions all her life and she would have to agree with them were it not for the sole reason of simply wanting to disagree. Standing at nearly five feet and seven inches, she was decked in a scarlet dress that followed without a crease down to her knees with the thick straps clasping about the bend between the shoulder and the arm as a black ribbon shimmered in her Mop-Top heavy ebony hair; quickly slipping on her black flat buckle shoes and appropriately accessorizing, she certainly felt anxious to attend the party and she had good enough reason. The McDonald's had of recent come back to London after an extensive spell in Paris that had lasted eleven years and she wasn't sure they knew anybody who didn't absolutely abhor Mr. McDonald and his partner George Duváll, courtesy of Vesper's burdensome mother Lola who had made it her business to keep all of the family friends.

Keeping this in mind, it had been eleven years and the human nature's capacity to forgive was vast; Vesper didn't believe so but Victor and George certainly did and so she had let the two plan out the party, secretly anticipating it to be a disaster and hoping so even more silently because George had of recent taken it up to fix her with every straight Tom, Dick and Harry. Before she was even five minutes into a conversation with any handsome young new acquaintance, George was hiring caterers and picking wild flowers from the garden for her wedding bouquet; it was certainly driving the boys away, much to both their dismay so in short, Vesper was hoping for the evening to pan out as entirely unsuccessful so that it would put an end to any thoughts of another party.

There was a sudden rap on her door and George's youthful rosy face poked through, "Toffee, are you ready yet?"

"Yes." Vesper said rather hesitantly, "But I still don't understand why I have to attend."

George made a face that was caught between disbelief and mockery, "Darling, it is your fifteenth birthday party!" he then sighed and said with a great roll of his mouth, "Oh Toffee, get down here, Victor wants to introduce you to a bunch of people who haven't seen you since you were five!" George paused and then said in a low barely audible irritated mutter, "Oh and there's your mother…"

"She came!" Vesper gasped to herself in wonder and even before George could confirm, she had brushed past him and bounded down the stairs in an impatient fashion, her shoes clacking and glimmering in the golden light of the chandelier in the entrance; her house of her early childhood had been decorated with floating crystal glasses brimming to the top with champagne, that had been enchanted to float away if any attempt was made by the underaged to grasp it, and there were streamers and balloons bouncing about nearly everywhere on the black and white marble flooring. Several other enchantments, coupled with the Family Ghost, Auntie Eileen who was pleasantly chatting away to unsuspecting children, the sight of Victor McDonald grimly glancing at Lola as if expecting an attack, and the fact that Vesper barely recognized little more than ten faces in a room filled with strangers as well as the sudden realization that she had not seen her mother in more than eleven years (save pictures), she instantly felt a suffocating burden upon her; her mother Lola, however had spotted her too quickly to allow her time to recover and with an appreciating squeal, began to bustle her way towards her comically frightened daughter.

"Vesper, darling-_dear_! Oh my love it's been _ages_!" Lola greeted her daughter as though eleven years had had no effect of strain on their relationship. Vesper was much too taken aback to return the compliment; _ages_ was too relative a term and this had been the moment she had dreamed of since she returned to England; her mother had ruined the reunion. Clearly, she was drunk. "Yes…you too mother…" Vesper affirmed awkwardly as her mother beamed at her; Vesper believed she was being judged.

"Oh call me Lola!" Her mother giggled brashly and then her bubbly mood suddenly moved into a sort of derisiveness as she began to secretly sniff about for gossip concerning her father and his boyfriend. "I say, Vesper dear, George has done a fine job organizing the party!"

Vesper was confused, "Didn't you two reconcile?"

Of what other means could George have invited so many people Lola considered her property? Only once he had attended on, talked to her and come to a conclusion with her could there have been any chance of old friends showing up. Vesper however couldn't help but refrain from blaming Lola for her bitterness towards George; after all, according to George, the two had been best friends since they were seven and naturally, a betrayal such as that, that is stealing her husband, could not be forgiven so easily.

"Oh yes…yes…" Lola sighed with a sting in her voice, "…_that_…"

Before Vesper could say another word however, Lola had brightened remarkably, literally swelling with happiness as she clasped Vesper's wrist. "Oh, Vesper, I _entirely_ forgot! I have a family to introduce you to! Oh and Vesper…?" Lola winked, "There's a young man that I want you to meet."

This was insane; now Lola was competing with George in helping Vesper acquire a love interest! Vesper attempted to protest politely but was soon overtaken and led to the dining room that though too was practically packed, a group of people stood out rather prominently; they were elegant, good looking and sophisticated, qualities that others in the room too upheld but regarding this group, there was a rotten air of pride about that stunk to Vesper and even before her mother had introduced them, she had been put off and could manage no more than a vague, "How do you do?"

"Here she is! My beloved, _beautiful_ daughter Vesper!" Lola gasped with pure joy and then thrust Vesper into their tight circle for inspection. The next ten seconds within which none of their party spoke where perhaps one of the most exhausting of Vesper's life; internally she rebelled and opposed them but on the outside, courtesy was too much to bear and it was second nature to shrink before them. Following those few moments, a tall stunning middle-aged woman with flowing jet black hair turned to the man on her right and said as if pleasantly surprised, "Darling, she's quite pretty!"

Immediately Vesper wanted to protest but instead she simply glanced a gaze of irritated submissiveness at her mother who hardly took any notice but had let out a sigh of relief. "Vesper." She quickly began, "These are one of my oldest friends, the Black family."

"One of the ones you inherited after the divorce?" Vesper punished her mother for her insolent behavior to her but she brushed it off with a loud and bawdy laugh.

"Yes." She added to the laugh and Vesper cocked an eyebrow. "Why don't you spend some time with their sons?"

"My youngest is currently off sulking somewhere in this gorgeous house of yours." The tall middle-aged woman spoke with a glimmer of a smile; she had been identified as Mrs. Black. "But please- Regulas? Ah, here, would you mind being Miss McDonald's escort for the night?"

"Not at all."

Wedged behind Mr. and Mrs. Black had been their eldest son Regulas who had been chatting imperviously to an attractive brunette rather intently and by his tone and infliction, the interruption had not been welcomed at all; he received it coldly and made every gesture to support the idea and being formally introduced to Vesper did nothing to change his demeanor. Vesper really felt unfortunate to be stuck with him for the night; it was her gift to her mother, she had decided and the idea of any more hoops she had to jump through to be accepted into her mother's society could be immediately discarded.

Once Regulas had taken her arm in his and led her away, he made no attempt at conversation and so it provided Vesper with a better opportunity to study him; he strutted about like Britain's prized poodle and had no care for that fact that she had to stride longer than necessary to keep up with him; at the pace they were going, her dress would rip in some unseemly area but she was just in no mood to talk to him and so kept silent, hoping that he would get the message and move on to somebody else.

After they had done a round and Vesper had been personally able to meet and bask under the wonder of all her unrecognizable guests who had simply gushed and praised her until she actually went a bit pink in the cheeks and red in the ears, he reunited with the attractive brunette five minutes later. Vesper was still there but largely ignored by both; she really didn't mind as she had decided that she would actually work to keep conversation between them to a minimum. Her interest had been entirely in observing her guests and partaking in the festivities with them, only at a distance; she was envied their position and was annoyed with her mother. She did glance at Regulas once though, through the corner of her eyes and found that as the pretty brunette spoke, his eyes had been on Vesper with an intimate soft smile on his face. She was puzzled but then it dissolved once his gaze very fleetingly shifted back to the brunette, smile and all. Her name was Harper Paisley. His company was draining and tense.

"Come along." He suddenly said, breaking Vesper's thoughts and holding his arm out to her which she took with an oppressive shudder.

"You don't like me very much do you?" Regulas said plainly and Vesper was happy to reply firmly in the negative.

"No."

That was the limit of their conversation; outside in the McDonald's expansive backyard where a lighted tent had but put up the cake was cut, _Happy Birthday our Loveliest Vesper_ sung and food brought out and he remained by her side throughout. He clearly took his mother's words with the greatest precaution as Vesper had tried to dodge him a few times and each time he would very nonchalantly catch up with her; once she really believed she was free of him, only for him to appear before her with a slice of cake for her; she was grateful but her first impression of him was too strong so the good gesture was negligible. She couldn't deny though that he had a strong handsome face that was so much rigid that there was constant faint scowl upon him; his hair was short and wavy and brushed aside to one side in a sort of Frank Sinatra fashion and he was stupendously tall. Also, as they ate, both in conversation with everybody except each other, she noticed his fingers at the bridge of the knife and fork; his way with the cutlery was more like a brain surgeon at work rather than a starved young man slicing a piece of apple roasted lamb. Nobody else was as concerned with the bloody fineness of the cut as they were with stuffing chunks of flesh down their throats. Regulas Black seemed a cut above the rest and suddenly Vesper too felt a cut below him.

Without any warning, he shifted to her and said with a slack nonchalant expression, as though in appreciation rather than fixation. "You _are_ very pretty."

Vesper didn't know what to say to that; she was caught too suddenly and so could only manage a thank you that hid none of her confusion.

"Are you done?" Regulas asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin before tossing it aside, knowing full well that Vesper had not touched a morsel on her plate; she had been too busy indulging in pleasant conversation with others and also, she had always eaten very slowly. Still, he threw a lingering gaze over her plate and brought his eyes to hers. "Are you done?"

"Obviously not." Vesper replied with furrowed eyebrows but he was already on his feet and Vesper had much preferred to get over and be done with him; she would probably eat leftovers with George and her father anyway. As she followed him from the backyard inside to her house, she was again left choking on his dust; he was that fast but he was quite indifferent to her feelings and she was through with him. She slowed down her pace and let him stride ahead and then managed to take her escape via an abrupt exit into the well-stocked library; her original destination had been the staircase but the door to the library had been open and the library itself lit which aroused her suspicions. The library door had originally been closed and all others open, a clear indication of the library being off limits during the party hours. So Vesper entered.

She crept into the room silently, not in hopes of catching anybody but refraining from being startled incase if it was some young couple who had picked the area for its seclusion; in the latter case, she would want to make sure that they had not brought in any eateries. There was not a sound to be heard except for her flighty breathing and the soft step of her feet on the carpet. Just as she was almost convinced that nobody was in, she took a turn about the first and shortest bookcase and her discovery was a brooding young man, comfortably tucked away in the corner between the wall and the bookshelf upon a floor cushion.

"Hello?" Vesper warranted for his attention as soon as she stopped before him and she got it; he lifted his curious eyes from the floor to hers and she felt the full flood of his beauty; he was tall but not excessively tall and his was physical frame was lithe, so he was clearly no older than maybe fifteen or seventeen and he had a head of dark curly hair, neatly cut at the edges and let wild like a forest with a particular strand which fell over his forehead that practically gleamed in the white dim light of the library. He sat leaning against the bookshelf with one leg outstretched and the other brought up to a bend upon which his right arm rested. He looked irritated with her intrusion. His eyes were grey and glazed.

"Who're you?" he asked spitefully.

"I'm sorry, I didn't meant to intrude." Vesper said firmly and yet apologetically, "It's just…" she paused and then added, "…you're not allowed into the library…if you want to be alone, I could find you another room…"

"No…I'm fine here." He replied with mock derisiveness.

He turned away but she didn't break her gaze; she was curious. "…Alright…"

She _really_ was curious.


	2. Chapter 2: Grey Eyes

Summer Loving

Chapter Two:

Vesper Ada McDonald sat in her bedroom thinking over the events of her fifteenth birthday party; they played out in her head like a film and with every slight significant event, her heart gave out with a twang and she tried not to yell out in frustration. She had not even undressed yet and night time had passed into the early hours of morning; it was still dark outside and though she had tried to convince herself to sleep, she couldn't. Sleep was what somebody like herself yearned but tonight it was a lost cause; frustration and excitement would not allow her the space to sleep so she simply lay warm and cozy in her bed, thinking over the events of her fifteenth birthday. Finally, the sun rose over the horizon and soon, she gave up altogether and crept out of the comfort of her bed and slunk to her door, rubbing her eyes and yawning all the way. As was customary, George and her father were awake and busy preparing breakfast in the kitchen; as Vesper made her way down the stairs, she heard them talking in hushed whispers and she grew curious.

"Did she say anything to you?" said George.

"Nothing at all. She was so tired and I think she hated the party." Victor replied. "I'm glad though. Lola's got no business introducing that Regulus kid to her. He's trouble."

Vesper shook her head and went to the living room, where last night's evidences lay scattered about; ignoring them, she meekly placed herself in the centre of the couch and outlined the lace of her dress with one finger; once again, last night's events began a fantastic takeover of her thoughts**…**

* * *

…Vesper passed an anxious glance at the young man who was sharing her library; he was angry that she had found him, she could tell and that he wanted her to leave. The worst though was that he wouldn't even wish her a happy fifteenth birthday. Vesper did not break her glance and continued to watch him, brimming with curiosity at his angst-ridden character that he would not even look at her and simply pretended to read a random book he had pulled out of the case as soon as she had offered to lead him to another room to brood. Vesper took a deep breath and turned her face away; tilting her back with a nonchalant expression and from the corner of her eye she caught him with a quick curious glance in her direction.

"Why are you here?" He asked then, giving away his confusion.

"Why are _you_ here? It's my house." Vesper replied monotonously, "I can be in the library if I want."

Besides, she wasn't sure whether or not he had been invited and therefore could be a possible party-crasher who was perhaps trying to find something valuable to sell on the black market. A farfetched notion, Vesper had to admit, but one would've been surprised at the number of them that often showed up at the parties that the family threw in France.

The young man didn't reply so she jerked her head to him, her short soft hair moving too and once more studied him; he didn't seem to mind her staring at him too much and in fact, he seemed to be inviting it and therefore basking in it. Repelled by this idea, Vesper again turned the other direction and looked heaven-wards, seemingly interested in the glow of the chandelier. "Are you bored?" She asked and found him looking over her with a distressed smile.

"Yes." He replied in his clipped voice without discarding the smile. "Are you?" He gave her figure a sweeping look and she was once more repelled. She swallowed and shook her head.

"Oh, not at all. No…" She then glanced at the library door and said, "I'm hiding."

"From who?"

Vesper made a face and hopped off her stool before disappearing behind the third book case. "That's none of your business."

Looking back only to affirm that he hadn't followed her, with a crossed brow and an irritated mood, she immersed herself in her favorite section of the library; contrary to what most believed, her wizard family did not like to keep books about wizardry right in the open and so this library contained Literature of over fifteen different languages and her favorite was of the French section; she was fluent in French and exercised any opportunity to better herself in it. Though she tried to convince herself that she was trying to abide by the rule of library to be silent, the rule had never really applied in hers and she was actually really trying to listen into any movements made by the boy so that he wouldn't startle her.

"What are you doing?" He said suddenly right behind and though her heart had leapt with fright and her body immediately tensed up, she remained outwardly cool and relaxed and replied with considerable ease.

"Scouting for a book."

"Really?"

"Yes."

He was really stringing her last nerve now and he was really too close to her; she did not have it in her to flip and see just how close he was but could tell by his voice and her own senses that he was too close. "Can you read?"

"Yes, I'm not entirely illiterate." Was the instant good-humored reply.

"French, I meant." She said without a smile or a laugh; he was too close and he was getting closer and she wanted for him to read the signs and back away.

"…Yes." He said, prolonging his answer into her ear and she had had enough.

"Excuse me…" She said pleasantly as she turned around, saw that they had not an inch of space between them and then even more pleasantly brushed past him with her book to her favorite floor cushion. She made a quick glance at him and was amused that he had not moved at all from his area of ambush; he stood there, almost as if he were frozen and then after a deep breath, slowly began some movement. Vesper laughed to herself silently and then got on with reading her book.

A few minutes later she looked up and found him reading a book by the same author that she had before her; leaning against the smallest surface area of the bookcase, he seemed rather interested in it before pretending to have caught her glance whereas she was quite well aware that he knew she was watching. He gave a laugh of surprise, "Oh, _you're_ reading it _too_?"

Vesper couldn't help but smile a smile of perhaps mock disbelief and he continued, "How do you like yours so far?"

"I wouldn't know, I haven't started as of yet." She said coolly, "I was reading the Acknowledgements."

"Oh, me too!" He said energetically and then returned to his book as though deeply interested in it. Vesper could have laughed; her father had better acting chops!

"You're laughing." He said, looking up from his book.

"Only at you." She replied, hoping that she had removed any misconceived notion of his about her regarding _where this was going_.

"Good, because I was beginning to think you were nothing but a serious judgmental little girl." He said triumphantly and moved to the ground next to her on her left.

She hesitated now, but said it anyway after a few seconds of silence, "I'm not little…"

"You're a child!" he laughed and for the first time Vesper was unsure of her own beauty. "You're too young…y'know?"

Vesper and he held a gaze for a few seconds which Vesper broke with all the coolness of an experienced young woman and began reading her book again.

The young man tsked, "Oh…I hope I haven't put you off?"

"Put me off…?" She questioned with protesting innocence as though the thought had not even crossed her mind and it encouraged a great smile on his face.

"_Really_, now…!" He laughed, encouraged and his smile became soft and intimate, "You are blooming though…"

Though she was cautious, Vesper couldn't bring herself to face him again; again, he was too close, leaning over and peering into her book and then he shared a glance with her, before suddenly taking her right arm and kissing the hollow of it where the elbow joint was. Holding her arm, he looked at her and it was like Vesper was caught by a flash of a camera. Slothfully, he moved closer to her and kissed her softly on the mouth. She made a quick gesture for him to stop and she bobbed her head back before inviting him back but he wasn't interested anymore and without meeting her eyes, like a kitten, he nuzzled her jaw with a drugged murmur, "Happy birthday, birthday-girl." before leaping to his feet and leaving without another word.

Vesper's perplexity in warp speed evolved into hot anger and tossing aside her book, she exited the library, just about catching him leave into the backyard where she felt like shaming him before the flock with a slap but she was stopped by a familiar face; one she had been hiding from.

"Vesper where have you been?" Regulus asked with slight interest. "I lost you."

"You didn't lose me. I lost you." She replied defiantly.

His confusion was too much of an invitation and Vesper blasted him with the anger that she had wanted to reserve for the boy in the library, "Oh do not look at me like a bloody wounded pup...!" She paused, choosing her next words wisely and carefully, "All night, you've been a little pretentious prick...! _All night_! Who, might I add, despite all his world class breeding does not know the simplest and most decent of gestures and that is the common action of courtesy and as it is, I've had just about enough of you and every other loser tonight, so please just keep it all to yourself tonight alright?"

Regulus had listened patiently and then said uncertainly with a sigh, "I'm sorry if I caused you any pain…and if I came across as unsympathetic. However my parents had put me in a position I had not at the time wanted to be in." He paused for a few minutes, perhaps thinking Vesper wanted to leave but she was interested in knowing. "Of course, you did not make it any easier."

"I didn't do anything." Vesper scowled dismissively, "Don't kid yourself."

Regulus offered another soft smile and her heart somewhat softened. "Well, being the eldest Black, I am always expected to escort some girl or the other at some occasion or another. I am not accustomed to escorting pretty girls. They usually follow around my younger brother while I deal with the nasty ones."

"As I have already said, you are quite pretty." He continued in a factual tone. Vesper likened him at least in manner and speech to any French hero she might have read of. "So you can quite imagine how utterly mortified and elated I was when my parents attached me to you." He finished with an explanatory hand gesture and awaited her response which came muted and dismissive.

"You're difficult to read…" Vesper muttered, feeling foolish even though she still believed she was in every sense in the right.

"Or contained?" He offered pleasantly and she nodded, slightly mortified with herself now, offering a muted, "yup..."

"Why not...?" She said more to herself than to him; she wished he would go away because her stomach was in tight knots and her face was scorching.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Uh huh." Vesper managed, just about keeping down any obvious feature of her humiliation; she honestly felt that she shouldn't feel this way, humiliated but his gentle calm assuring explanation had rendered her significantly mute.

He gazed at her questioningly and she shrugged her shoulders as if to apologize and yet reaffirm her own significant change in feeling.

"I would like to see you some time Vesper." He said suddenly in his trademark matter-of-face tone. "Perhaps you could accompany your delightful mother to our manor this weekend."

"What if I don't want to come?" It was an honest question, Vesper thought to herself, one she very well wanted answered.

He smiled, snickered almost at her snarky response. "Perhaps this will help." He suggested and then leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss on the lips and cheek; unlike the boy in the library, he didn't perplex her and instantly made clear his intentions. "Come and see me." He spoke nonchalantly but with great expectation of her visit.

Vesper could have laughed at his self-assurance but was left lingering in the hallway, finding a deep interest in her feet of a sudden. Instinct propelled her to look up and as she did, she caught the boy from the library standing casually by and chatting to another girl; Vesper immediately recognized everything from the laugh to the look to the gestures; they had all been used on her. What was this guy? Suddenly he caught her too for a moment and blinked; she realized he was egging her to come to him but intelligent and quick to learn from her mistakes, Vesper offered a derisive smile and latched herself onto her mother and began a delightful conversation about Regulus Black...

* * *

…Vesper took a deep breath and exhaled; whatever had happened last night, she was really regretting taking on with her mother a trip to the Blacks; her mother had been too thrilled with the idea that her daughter might possibly be interested in the slightest bit in Regulus Black and would certainly make a fool of Vesper once there. Also, the boy from the library was plaguing her mind like a disease and yet, she was in desperation to know more about him; she would have it, after all, she was a girl and as George once said that there was no greater curious being than a young girl.

**A/N: I always think that that reviewing is a nice gesture particularly since I would like to know how the story can be improved; I will be taking on suggestions! Also, as you may have picked up, Sirius is the younger brother in this, Regulus the older, that's probably one of few liberties that I've taken, so ha!**


	3. Chapter 3: The Sullivans

Summer Loving

Chapter Three:

Regulus Black was playing hard to get, Vesper could tell and she was furious; sprawled across her bed and eyeing the ceiling with the most jaded expression, she sat there thinking what on earth had gone wrong and how she would ever face him again and more precisely what could be done to salvage their relationship that seemed to be dangling by the thread before her very eyes. Vesper's lids flickered as the smoke from her father's room stung, making her deep blue eyes overwhelmingly irritable; despite this, her thoughts stayed rigidly with Regulus and unconsciously, rather sluggishly, her fingers began moving over the parts of her clothes that he had glanced upon, clutched or simply let himself feel with the most deftest of touches, thinking that Vesper had not been aware. However, he must have known this too, with every one of these gestures, Vesper's body had tightened, warmed and released. She had known and so he must have known. The simplest of logic could be applied to Regulus and Vesper; however she had complicated things through sheer stubborn will and desire to oppose him and Vesper found that the heat of the day was to be blamed…

* * *

…On the possibly the hottest morning of June, Lola Cunningham had thought it appropriate to introduce Vesper to the Sullivans, an elite family of wizards that spent its summers in the cooler countryside before returning to London for the school year; with this agenda, she had arrived earliest at the McDonald residence, earlier than expected at least for she was also to take Vesper to the Black residence later that day as promised on the night of her birthday, but because she felt that the Sullivans had been put aside long enough, the two of them, mother and daughter should pay the Sullivans a visit before bustling over to the Blacks with Sullivan company in tow. Remarkable was the only word appropriate for Lola's haphazard planning, Vesper believed.

Vesper could hardly breathe in the heat of the day and woke up disgusted with the heavy perspiration that had collected at the base of her neck near her shoulders. However, having overheard Lola and Victor arguing over the quickie trip to the Sullivans, she gathered as much that her mother had altered plans and that she was to see another family before trotting on over to the Blacks to do their bidding, so she rolled out of bed and trudged to the bathroom to shower and dress. She knew exactly what she was wearing for she wanted to please her mother as well as stay easy-breezy comfortable.

Sliding her hands through her wet hair Vesper turned to look at the mirror inquisitively, her mouth in a perfect pucker and she grimaced, reaching delicately for her lips; torn to shreds with her incessant and habitual chewing and though she had never been concerned with her raw lips before, London strove and tormented her to be perfect. Licking them, she leaned into the mirror and puckered them once more to see the tiny wounds. Vesper then shook her head, making a smart resolve to coat them in honey.

"Vesper your breakfast is ready."

"Oh I'm not eating this morning, I feel fat."

"Don't be ridiculous, Toffee. You look beautiful."

This small odd interchange with Victor and George was what Vesper experienced some mornings when Victor tried to enforce an idea and failed miserably because Vesper failed to comply, followed by a tactful interjection by George to coax Vesper to do exactly as Victor wanted her to before George planted a kiss on the top of Vesper's head, cooling all early morning tensions. Vesper smiled lightly to herself as she bit into her marmalade toast, having been reminded of the harmony that the order of things seemed to fall into with George's presence. She shuddered to think what this morning would have been like if Victor had stayed faithful to Lola and George would never have been there to understand Vesper. She didn't know it then but she was soon to see the image to match the thought, just in a matter of moments.

Lola sat stiffened across Vesper, eyeing Auntie Eileen with the most deathly of glares and Auntie Eileen was only too happy to return it with an aggrieved scowl. "You look lovely today Vesper!" Lola suddenly turned her attentions to her daughter with a brightened face. "Lavender floral on delicate white sheer? It looks absolutely fetching my dear!"

Vesper managed a wider smile than she had scarcely allowed herself since coming to London and this she shared with her mother before exchanging knowing glances with George to whom she quickly asked, before she forgot, whether he would hand her the honey bottle. Squirting some on her finger, she at once layered her lips, much to Lola's perplexity. "Darling what on earth are you up to?" She spoke with a restraint unsure giggle.

"Yes, what is that?" Victor asked with narrowed eyes, "I hope you don't plan to kiss this boy, what's his name? Regulus? Yes I hope you're not hoping for one of- (clearing his throat)…_that_, do you-_are_ you?" He finished bumbling nearly but quite stern in the face and voice and Vesper shook her head.

"No, not at all." She replied in the negative. He scowled, unconvinced and though Vesper was somewhat unaccustomed to his fatherly side, she sighed and decided to go along with it, continuing in one big exasperated breath, "My lips look _atrocious_ compared to your Harper Paisleys of the world!…So I need to stop shredding them every spare moment I've got with them." Her last note was of conviction and deliberation.

Victor's face softened somewhat but remained steely overall, "Oh that's right…you hate the taste of honey…"

Lola scribbled that into her notebook aptly entitled; **Things That I Need To Remember about My Dear Lovely Little Vesper.**

* * *

Orchards smelling of roses without a single bloom, sweet vine scents and apple tree oaks were some of the various enchantments that Vesper was aching to see as Lola continued to describe the luxury and extravagance of the Sullivans but what most took her into a delirium was the little known fact that the Sullivans owned a lake and the adjoining land a kilometer north from the main household, shrouded completely and hidden behind the thick fulsome vegetation of the countryside. Vesper was an avid swimmer and it had pained her to learn that her house in London did not have a pool to splash about in; neither did the Sullivans but their lake was better than a swimming pool, inartificial, integrative with the environment and naturally placid and cool and though the Sullivans owned some of the most extraordinary estates in the country, they were quite generous enough to allow the public to see and stall about though Vesper and Lola were not 'public'. They were elite and connected.

The Sullivans consisted of firstly the father, Julian Sullivan, a grave-mien businessman who was also an avid collector of muggle automobiles, _sports-cars_ they were called, and the earliest concoctioner of a breakthrough potion called Bis Morgen de Laet which allowed the consumer to look a day into the future; upon this breakthrough he had furthered his success with fantastical deals and such so he was quite intelligent and successful. The second of the Sullivans was a son of thirteen called Mickey, derived from Michael and he was a young inexperienced lad with strawberry blonde hair and eyes a deep blue, perhaps the most misunderstood and temperamental young boy Vesper had ever met and though she was recoiling with every steely glare he threw at her, she felt the deepest sorrow for him for no known reason. Julian was a little more becoming as Lola introduced her to them in their family room; he seemed puzzled at first, exchanging glances with an encouraging Lola who smiled easefully and so he hesitantly got up from his chair, a tall man, and stooped to shake Vesper's hand with a polite smile and said, "How do you do?"

"Perfectly, how are you?" Vesper could feel a little girl's crush settling in as a small timid but charmed smile crept on to her face. Julian's face opened up a little more and his smile widened as he replied that he was in the best of health.

"Vesper, why-why don't you sit down and speak to me for a bit…? Mickey's not feeling too good this morning…" Julian said with a check at his son from the corner of his eyes and Vesper was happy to oblige, the pit of her stomach warming; though as she too took a quick glance at Mickey, Lola's hand was firmly gripping his shoulder and she was whispering something to him in soothing tones. Again, Vesper's stomach warmed; Lola looked remarkably homely with Mickey, nothing like the outrageous and gregarious mothering she subjected Vesper to; here, she was soft, delicate and subtle. Exactly what Vesper wanted from her. With heavy lids, Vesper turned back to Julian. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that?"

Vesper talked to Julian about her life in France and how different it was from life in London and she seemed to catch that though he was interested and that he had a deep understanding of what she was speaking of, his mind was drifting elsewhere; he seemed troubled too, a quick glance at Mickey a regular feature of their conversation. Lola joined in too, very happily though a very different euphoria than what she usually exhibited; she was so suddenly refined and Vesper, usually on edge with Lola in fear that her mother might say something infinitely inappropriate, was at ease with herself. There were no knots in her stomach, no pains and she even laughed with them. Mickey joined in too, slowly but eventually, at which point Julian was relieved and turned his full attention back to Vesper and as they laughed at a joke that Mickey unwittingly made, Vesper looked at Julian but he was looking at Lola and she at him; a silent moment shared between the two that shattered Vesper, but in a good way, in a way that made her happier and stronger. Were Lola and Julian secret lovers? Did she want to be Mrs. Sullivan and mother Mickey? Mrs. Sullivan, Vesper presumed, was dead for neither of the three made any reference to her and so silently vowed to help the match to be together.

"Excuse your mother and I, please Vesper." Julian said with an apologetic smile as he took Lola's hand and helped her to her feet. "She and I have something momentous to discuss…we'll be upstairs…"

"Of course…" Vesper replied and the two left the room. Mickey was suddenly quite uncomfortable.

"What about you, your father told me you weren't quite feeling yourself this morning?" Vesper commenced before even she felt awkward.

"No, but I feel much better now…" He replied timidly.

"Really? Well that's very well, I should have been very bored talking to those two all day."

Mickey smiled, "Are you coming with us to see the Blacks this afternoon?"

"Yes, I was invited to by their eldest son and I don't think I could refuse, though I do want to."

Mickey frowned, "is it that you fancy him?"

Vesper nearly laughed, "No...I don't think so..."

However Mickey look troubled for a moment, as if within an internal struggle of some sort. Vesper frowned, "Why do you look like that, what's the matter?"

"Oh nothing, really…it's just…the Blacks, they have another son, Sirius..."

"So?"

"He's good friend of mine, a bit of an ass sometimes but on the whole, he's alright and he's just…says that Regulus is not…"

"Regulus is not what?" inquired Vesper.

"No, I don't think...I mean, you'll be meeting Sirius anyway, maybe you could...y'know," Mickey shrugged, glanced at her and settled with the following, "talk to him about Regulus..."

"Are you sure that it's not something you could tell me?" Vesper continued skeptically with an amused air, intrigued but before she could insist any further, from the corner of her eye, she had seen something shift across the open doorway and her curiosity burgeoned forward as light footsteps echoed across the floor, fading into the thin corridor. "Mickey, is anybody else in the house? Beyond the elfs and such?"

"No, nobody else is supposed to be…" he shrugged and then snapped his fingers, "ah, but you know what? It's probably…"

Vesper though wasn't listening anymore and she never caught the name of whom Mickey thought was most probable to be roaming the corridors but Vesper could not mistake those glistening grey eyes for anyone else's, those eyes that had so keenly looked upon her in her library on the night of her birthday party. She was irritated beyond red hot hell with them and would certainly not lose an opportunity to catch them; leaving Mickey, she surged forward out of the doors of the family room and into the corridors, slowly foot-stepping her way to wherever she believed his had taken him. However, somewhere along the way she began feeling quite silly with herself and was about to turn back and return to Mickey with a sheepish smile but then she heard voices.

"-just what _the fuck_ was this, please just try and explain to me what you're trying to do with us?"

Vesper had stumbled upon Julian and Lola in her search for Grey Eyes. The speaker was Julian and Vesper nearly shook hearing him speak with such passion and vigor and instantaneously her mind began to indulge its own fantasies; were Lola and Julian confessing their love for each other? Why did he sound so pained? Had Lola hurt him? Vesper's heart was beating too fast for her to stand still but she was too excited to interrupt the moment by creating some sound such as a sigh or a step or even the rustling of her clothes; she was absolutely transfixed.

"Julian, she's my daughter and I wanted her to meet you and Mickey!"

So Julian was the one who wasn't having any of it; Vesper was suddenly enraged.

"And I would have loved to meet her! I did want to meet her! Mickey was just confused, he would have liked to meet her too, but _eventually_, not-! And Lola, she's a sweet little girl, honest to God, Lola! But springing her on us like this was the worst you could have done for us and for her!"

"Mickey didn't want to meet her so I thought that this was probably the best way! _Julian_-!"

"And you haven't even really told her _who we really are_-!"

"Vesper?"

For a moment Vesper thought she had been caught out in the midst of Lola and Julian's tumultuous love-confession-cum-dramatic spectacle and an apology was just upon the tip of her tongue but she realized that her name had neither been called by Lola nor Julian. Spinning on her satin feet to expose this new speaker, she whipped across and in the dark corridor, before her stood The Boy from the Library. The lovely Grey Eyes.

There was something the matter with the men of England that day, Vesper had decided later on, something dreadfully wrong for they were all impassioned, grim and romantic in the realistic poetic sense of the word, i.e. troubled, thoughtful and highly out of character or varying from it slightly. It had been her father in the morning, Julian a moment ago and Grey Eyes just now. For a moment she forgot that she was angry, or at least irritated with him for he looked puzzled and somewhat dismal, _pitying_ as it were, with his furrowed black eyebrows, sad, sad grey eyes and tense mouth. He even hung before her not straight and looming as before but crestfallen and quite free and his head was tilted as if examining her expression just as she was examining his, trying to learn what to make of it. Again he spoke, his eyes wandering and sleepy and his voice was slow, well-paced and just slightly toned, "Vesper, what are you doing?"

"What are you doing?" She hissed back, "Do you stalk about in everybody's houses or is it just the ones that I visit?"

His disarming frown was replaced briefly by a sullen smile, "I was invited here."

Vesper cocked an eyebrow.

They had nothing to say to each other after that; Vesper was angry with him and from his posture and expression, he seemed to be pitying her, much to her dismay for she did not know how to act when one was being pitied and though she absolutely loathed being the centre of someone's sorrow, she was quite unaware of what the standard reaction was to be. After a few seconds of simply gazing at her and she at him, angrily rather, he lowered his head and her anger vanished with that came her curiosity, once again in full flood. Grey Eyes lifted his head, peering within the room and she frowned. "What's wrong?"

Though she did not give him the time to answer for she realized everything was as silent as a slaughterhouse; looking over her shoulder, she turned back to the room Lola and Julian had occupied and slowly crept to it, looking within via the thin crack between the open doors from whence some light flooded into the corridor and once more something shattered in Vesper though she did not know whether the feeling was for the better or worse. She felt like she knew deep inside of her why but that her conscious would not allow her to swallow it. What she saw was Lola and Julian completely entangled, making love as it were and Vesper's mouth went dry; the reason her head spun was unknown to her because this was what she wanted all the while that she had been here but as Grey Eyes crept up beside her, leaned in and whispered to her, that was all that had been needed to clarify everything.

"Vesper…" Grey Eyes whispered, "Julian is her husband and Lola is his wife."


	4. Chapter 4: By the Lake

Summer Loving

Chapter Four:

_Submerged, Vesper felt fully the complete solitude that had so stifled her existence; cool. Blue. Wet and numb. What a wonderful life, she thought to herself. Vesper blinked; her mind was a fog of mystical music and drums, of reggae and soul; a black haze drew closer to her in the water and she allowed herself an easy yet half-miserable smile as she met his teasing grey eyes. A hand drew forward and pulled her closer…_

The First chance meeting between himself and this teasing little girl in the cold golden hue of her family library had enthralled him; obsessively, and even though it had only been just a few cumbersome days since he last saw her he was now wrapped in the fragility of her silver foil. The great weight of her unexplored existence tolled him and inadvertently he trapped himself in his own creation of her hype. He often began to think of her as more than just a fifteen year old girl, inexperienced and woeful and began to revere her, calling to her in prayer as if she were some lovely vengeful being, a single complete embodiment of the Furies from the Greeks and Romans, forever bound to respond to his worship; not of the eternally faithful, sacrificial type but the aggravated passionate aggrieving sort. Bound to die away once the spell of 'The First' was broken, bound to because his sort of passion, his sort of worship never endured; his faith never sustained but it when it was in form, it was deep, true and real or so he thought.

He could not at first understand his obsession with her; he had a keen interest in girls and was often successful but it was never an obsession, which usually took shape and in the form of poets and books, historical figures and the technological advances of the Muggle World. Rarely had it ever occurred to him that a girl was capable of warranting that sort of attention and adulation from him; and then he saw her, peeping at him through the spaces of the shelves. He wasn't in love; he wasn't enamored; these were words were similar _in strength_ to what he felt but not _exactly_ what he felt. It was most simply put, passion. However, when he met her again at the Sullivan's Mansion, he completely got it. He understood himself; in the disparaging loneliness and sharp sadness of her eyes, he saw his own ever mirrored.

_Are you lonely just like me?_

The question cropped up quite often to him as they had walked to the lake but he never spoke; he led her like one would a child, by the hand, soft and supple and limp in his grip. In the little time that he had spent with her, he had quickly realized Vesper was very childlike, tripping over rocks and trudging through, occasionally wiping her brow in the sticky hot air. He also found that he didn't find it very particularly appealing but rather exasperating, and also that it was very easy to get attached to this notion for when they stopped at the lake, he was quite absentminded and unaware, and so made a gesture to help her take off her dress like one would a child to which she naturally responded quite harshly, ripping herself away from him with a forbidding glare and telling him to turn his back to her so that she might slip into the water unwatched. He did so and couldn't help but feel a strong sense of loss having been kept from her at her own choice but that quickly transformed into anger that physically conveyed itself as a sexual dominance; by the time he looked upon her, bobbing in the water, he was sure she felt it too in his lingering gaze.

Whether it was in this that she had redeemed him or she was simply embarrassed for him, once in the water and silently watching him, Vesper then pleasantly encouraged him to take his clothes off and join her in the water. Confused but still angry for keeping away from him, he hastily removed his shirt and tossed it aside and jumped in the water, much to her pleasure; he heard the echo of her laughter deep underwater and he quickly swam to her, beneath her and slid his hands up her bare legs. Feeling his touch, she wriggled away like a spooked fish but she came back quickly, to feel his gentle teasing grin with her finger tips, pressing her face and mouth nearly to his not in the fashion of a kiss but like the animals that craved familiarity and he welcomed it, even bobbing forward to mirror her movement to encourage such familiarity. He made her smile brighter and he warmed, snaking a hand through her hair but that was the limit to their interaction; she swam off, and when he followed, drawing a hand a pulling her closer, she evaded him and gestured him to leave her alone.

He was forced therefore to explore the lake for a while, keeping away though he so desperately wanted to be near her. He had once been told by Mickey not to overturn the rocks on the bed of the lake for there might be some snakes; he did anyway, never one for heeds and such. A black little fish nibbled at his toe before it zoomed away. He identified a crab too and found a frog with its hundreds of jelly eggs among some reeds but this scientific exploration was not why he accompanied Vesper to the lake. Wet and careless, he trudged out of the water and sat on the bank by the reeds, watching her reflection under the surface; birds chirped somewhere above him and the whole area creaked and twitched with life. Dirt and mud clumped between his wet toes and he felt cooler and calmer after the swim. In her presence, his obsession was nothing more than an interest though he knew how comically tormented he would be once she was to leave him; if he allowed it.

"All done?" He drew breath as she finally emerged from the water and sat beside him, all the while keeping his gaze low and averted; even still when she engaged him, he did not look at her.

"Yes, I had a nice swim." Vesper paused almost as if contemplating and then spoke just as brightly, "Do the Sullivan's really own it? This lake?"

She ran her fingers through her short black hair, tracing them off her face and rubbing clear and dry her eyes and face, he saw from the corner of his eyes. He never bothered responding to her question and instead shifted his weight to his arms by leaning back on them. "Do you like it?"

"It's really…its lovely. You ought to know that." She managed a quizzical smile, as if probing and he endowed her with a brief glance and a very clever, very daring smile.

"Find anything interesting?" She asked and he looked around as if to contemplate his options.

"…frog eggs and a crab." He said offhandedly. He liked her less and less by the minute; she was being untrue to herself, her lonely absconding self and it was repelling him. He wanted to talk of her loneliness, his own, their compatibility and its remedy; he wanted to inquire after her, and be given to read her like one would scour a book but at her most pleasant, he deemed her a nasty hypocrite. He continued with this mental derailment of her and her self, hyperbolic terms springing to him and he caught on in this silent condemnation of her in the quiet of her company, in her ignorance and suddenly _it_ was gone. His beautiful fantastic vision of her godliness suddenly just…it was _gone_. He understood it quite quickly; it was quite a recurring process. His passion for her was gone and Vesper Ada McDonald was no longer The One and the power of The First was quickly a mere memory; looking within himself, he realized he still _felt_ for her deeply, but it was no longer to the blown up magnitude of its original bloom. She was human to him now, and not a god, with a capacity for flaws and ability to irritate. As such, he could destroy her and preserve himself.

Even though they were sitting side by side, he still loomed over her petite little form lazing in the sunlight and it must have been one of those telepathic things were two individuals read each other perfectly in terms of future action because suddenly he decided he would kiss her again and from the flicker in her deep blue eyes, he knew she had already decided she would accept.

He believed he had seduced her against her will that night in the library; now, she was melting into his embrace in search for solace but she wouldn't find it in him; hypocrites rarely were rewarded and she was going to be punished but he did not know that it was susceptibility to vulnerability that had refrained her from him, not hypocrisy as he had so cruelly judged. He warmed her like she had him earlier in the water and this was her cautious way of associating to him. He was to realize this only after.

Lowering his eyelids he leaned forward into her and she tilted her face up to him to catch his mouth; he met her pretty eyes as he nuzzled close to her mouth, closing his eyes and pressing against her soft mouth; he felt her lashes tickle his cheek and he eased a hand gently across the stem of her neck, supporting her as he took deeper into the kiss. He coaxed her gently through kisses to open her mouth and flicked his tongue against hers, warmth spreading in the pit of his stomach to the lobes of his ears; he felt free, warm and one. His lips were wet and she tasted like a curious amalgamation of honey and salt, predominantly salt. It was only when he brought his hand to cup her cheek that he realized the salt was from tears that had now streaked her cheeks. Sorrow and regret immediately overwhelmed him and he ripped away from her, transfixed by her sad lonely teary eyes that were now red. He couldn't take his eyes off her, staring at her as though she had just poisoned him. Under his pressurizing tense gaze, her face cracked and creased and she surrendered to a brief silent cry, fiddling with her hands and occasionally wiping her cheek. He just watched her, nearly astounded by himself and his awry sense of justice.

Vesper was done rather quickly, aggressively rubbing her face between her eyes and nose, patting her cheeks so that by the time he saw her face, it was still red but impassive but he didn't realize she had taken his acknowledgment of her tears as a breach of trust; henceforth, he was condemned.

She walked to her clothes, wore her dress over her undergarments and came back to him to gather her shoes and socks. He was too stricken to do anything but watch her wet hair swing about and cling to her face; as she slipped her feet into her shoes, she looked down, lids lowered and the corner of her lips so subtly creased that for a moment he likened the expression to that of his brother's. He was being judged; harshly and cruelly and such a scowl usually pertained that there was little he could do to repent for forgiveness. He was dependant on time.

Vesper turned her back to him, her movement slick and swan-like, walking down the path, dress swinging to and fro and walking far away from him as though he were just another feature amongst many others.

**A/N: sorry for updating real late and its also relatively shorter, but I hope you enjoyed that from Grey Eyes' perspective! I will try to return to Vesper's perspective soon enough, hopefully by the next chapter but this little bit from GE's POV was important because I wanted to show the premises for why he is so interested in her and the nature of his obsession that has been exaggerated for plot purposes****. Review it, but only if you want more.**


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